


afternoon prime time

by alykapedia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Gen, Getting Together, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: The last thing Mari wants is to get more involved with whatever's happening between her baby sister and Viktoria Nikiforova than she already is. She already knows far too much about what Viktoria's hair smells like (i.e. lavender, apparently) and she really doesn't want to know anymore.Except Yuuri's a bit of an idiot and there's only so much stupidity that Mari can take.





	afternoon prime time

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY 2019!! 
> 
> it's been a while since i last wrote about victuuri!girlfriends and i wanted something with a mari twist so...here we are! i also just liked the mental image of viktoria nikiforova draping herself artfully over a very oblivious and very gay yuuri katsuki. set during the summer of mutual pining for max stupidity.
> 
> mistakes may abound. find it in your heart to ignore them

A not-so-comprehensive list of things that Katsuki Mari doesn’t want to think about:

  1. The leak on the roof above the storage room that she’s gonna have to seal up by herself because Masaru-san always does a shoddy job when he does it;
  2. The upcoming mixer that her high school buddies have convinced (read: blackmailed) her to attend;
  3. This month’s taxes;
  4. This month’s utility bills; and
  5. Whatever’s going on between her sister and Viktoria Nikiforova.



 

.

 

Mari doesn’t want to think about it.

She really, _really_ doesn’t want to think about it.

She doesn’t even want to know about it in the first place.

Because despite the fact that Yuuri’s taller than her now and no longer clings to her like a needy baby koala, face squished against Mari’s chest and begging her to _please, please, please stay, Mari-nee, Takeshi-kun’s being mean to me,_ Yuuri is forever going to be her baby sister. It’s just a fact of life. And it’s weird having to watch Yuuri awkwardly orbit Viktoria Nikiforova like the world’s most jittery satellite.

Although, to be completely fair, Yuuri’s been clumsily circling Viktoria ever since she was twelve (and decided right then and there that she was going to marry the Russian skater when she grows up) so Mari figures that she’s always known about it. But having to deal with your baby sister’s embarrassing crush on the skating world’s golden girl is very, very different from having to deal with said golden girl pursuing your baby sister with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.

It’s like watching one of her afternoon dramas in real time, except that Mari can’t just change the channel or turn the TV off whenever the leads were being idiots.

Like right now.

They’re in the family room, discussing something about program elements that go over Mari’s head, and Viktoria is once again artfully draped along Yuuri’s side, sticking to Mari’s sister like glue as if she hadn’t been complaining about the muggy summer heat just earlier. Viktoria’s practically sitting on Yuuri’s lap, leaning in close to Yuuri, who’s been valiantly trying not to look down Viktoria’s tank top for the better part of the hour.

Meanwhile, Mari’s been fighting against the urge to just knock their heads together and be done with it.

The urge increases a thousandfold when Viktoria suddenly drops her head to Yuuri’s shoulder with a whine, one strap of her tank top slipping down a shoulder in a way that looks too practiced to be anything but. And okay, yeah, if Mari was into that, she’d think Viktoria was attractive, but as it is, Mari just rolls her eyes heavenwards at Viktoria’s bumbling attempts at seducing her sister, who’s falling for it hook, line, and sinker.

Mari’s pretty sure that if Yuuri didn’t decide at the age of twelve that her type was gonna be tall, platinum blonde, Russian skaters, then Viktoria Nikiforova’s sad excuse of a flirting technique would never work, because Viktoria, despite what Yuuri may believe, is as smooth as gravel.

It was actually kind of sad.

Mari’s seen grade schoolers with better game and Viktoria’s lucky that Yuuri’s an idiot for her.

“Yuuri,” Viktoria whines after a beat of silence, and Mari prays for strength as she watches Yuuri blush up to her ears. “It’s so hot.”

There’s a moment where Mari thinks Yuuri just might say what she really thinks and put them all out of their suffering, but it passes in the blink of an eye as Yuuri blurts out, “I—It’s cold at the Ice Castle,” keeping her gaze firmly on the table.

Deflection.

Classic Yuuri.

For her part, Viktoria doesn’t even falter. “Nice try, but no,” she says, quickly changing tactics as she drags the tip of her nose along Yuuri’s jaw, and wow, how is her sister still so oblivious? Mari’s already dying of secondhand embarrassment from Viktoria’s blatancy, and yet Yuuri’s still operating under the delusion that Viktoria’s only here to train her. Gods, she didn’t raise Yuuri with her own hands to be _this_ dumb. “If we go to the Ice Castle, you’re going to try and skate on your sprained ankle.”

“You could—uh—just take a shower,” Yuuri says, looking as if she’s trying very hard not to imagine Viktoria taking said shower and failing miserably.   

It probably doesn’t help that Viktoria quickly suggests, “Or we could take a shower together,” and Mari counts it as a minor miracle that Yuuri doesn’t spontaneously combust right then and there. “Kidding!” Viktoria lets out a forced little laugh when the silence stretches for far too long, slowly getting to her feet, and finally concluding what has to be the most painfully awkward fifteen minutes of Mari’s life. “I’m gonna go take that shower now,” she says, before escaping to the hallway, leaving Mari, Yuuri, and Makkachin, who luckily slept through the entire thing.

As soon as the door closes behind Viktoria, Yuuri collapses on the table with a groan.

“Wow,” Mari intones, throwing her pen at Yuuri’s head and earning herself a glare. “Why are you like this?”

“Shut _up_.”

 

.

 

The last thing Mari wants to do is meddle.

Really.

She’d rather not get more involved in the stupidly convoluted courting ritual her sister and Viktoria are doing than she already is, but—

“They’re so dumb!”

“Mari!”

Her mom’s scolding has never really worked on her. Unlike Yuuri who clams up and tears up at the slightest, most infinitesimal hint of parental disappointment, Mari lets it slide off her back because (1) she’s an adult and her parents wouldn’t know how to be disappointed in them if they tried, and (2) Mari is right and everyone knows it.

“What? It’s true!” She insists as they finish setting up the dinner table. “Even Makkachin thinks they’re stupid!” At this point, Mari’s can say that Makkachin was smarter than Yuuri and Viktoria combined and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration at all. “Earlier, Viktoria was this close,” Mari pauses, holding up her hand to show her thumb and forefinger almost touching, before continuing, “to kissing her and then Yuuri said something about watering the oven and escaped.”

“ _Oh, Yuuri_ ,” Mama breathes out, which had been the sentiment of the day, because the entire thing had happened in full view of the usual afternoon crowd. Even Namikaze-san who’s been trying to get Yuuri on her family registry had shaken her head at the stupidity, muttering something about how Yuuri and Viktoria should get married already. “But you shouldn’t meddle, Mari. Your sister will do things at her own pace.”

Mari gives her mom a _look_. “Mama, if we let Yuuri do things at her own pace, it’s gonna take a minimum of ten years.”

And Mari refuses to have this go on for another year, much less _ten_.

So she meddles.

By which she means she performs her tried and tested technique of strong arming Yuuri into doing things she would never do by herself (e.g. attending ballet class, getting her ears pierced).

“We can help out,” Viktoria is saying, wide-eyed and earnest, after her mom announced that they’ll be closing the inn tomorrow to make way for their bimonthly cleanup. It’s sweet of her to offer, and it earns Viktoria a few brownie points, but Mari has a plan and that plan involves getting them out of the inn.

Also, aside from folding laundry and washing the dishes, Yuuri’s kinda useless when it comes to chores.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Mari says with a beatific smile that earns her a suspicious look from Yuuri that’s probably well-deserved as she follows up her statement with, “Why don’t you guys just go out to the beach?”

“The beach?” Viktoria echoes, looking as if she hasn’t even thought about going to the beach, before turning her eyes towards Yuuri, who’s taken to kicking Mari covertly under the table.

_Brat._

Grabbing Yuuri’s foot, Mari continues, “You haven’t been to the beach yet, right? And since she’s still recovering from her sprain,” Mari says pointedly, yanking at Yuuri’s uninjured ankle to make her stop. “Yuuri can take you. Right, Yuu-chan?”

The nickname is probably a bit too much and will have Yuuri being insufferable for weeks to come when Viktoria inevitably uses it, but whatever. Yuuri deserves it for being an idiot.

Annoyance and outrage flit through Yuuri’s face and only years of being on the receiving end of those looks has Mari catching them as Yuuri’s expression quickly smooths into something decidedly bashful as Viktoria leans towards her expectantly. “Only if you want to,” Yuuri mumbles, gazing up at Viktoria through her lashes, making Mari feel like a voyeur.

The feeling only intensifies when Viktoria shifts even closer, one hand tangling with Yuuri’s, and wow, Mari is so, so _done_. “I’d love to.”

Turning back to her miso soup with a long suffering sigh, Mari gives herself a pat on the back and makes a mental note to ask chef to prepare a bento for them tomorrow.

 

.

 

(Much, much, much later, Mari will pretend not to see Yuuri and Viktoria sneaking upstairs in the middle of the night, sunburnt and trailing sand all over the newly-polished floors. Will pretend not to hear them whispering and giggling, crowding each other like giddy schoolgirls in the hallway to Yuuri’s room.

Mari will, however, hope that Yuuri remembers that their walls are literally paper-thin.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> spoiler alert: yuuri forgets that the walls are paper-thin and mari has _regrets_


End file.
